


The Wrong End of the Stick (And Making it Work for You)

by mongoose_bite



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Humor, Frottage, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Interspecies Romance, Shapeshifting, because they shapeshift, who knows what Alteans look like naked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 12:44:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8286274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mongoose_bite/pseuds/mongoose_bite
Summary: When you date someone outside of your own species, you have to be prepared for surprises, compromise, and a certain amount of awkwardness. Allura has the advantage of being a shape-shifter at least, so she can make herself almost perfectly human to match her partner, even if she only has one model to work from.
And Lance? He's just happy to be here.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up way fluffier and less awkward than I intended.

To be among the last of one's species is a situation that takes time to truly sink in. Allura missed, most of all, the people she known and loved personally, and the planet she'd grown up on, and grieving for them took a long time.

Living among aliens was no hardship, but eventually it struck her, like a punch in the gut, that Coran was the only other Altean face she'd see for the rest of her life, save the one in the mirror.

She'd kept her feelings to herself until she was alone, and by then it was too late to cry about it. Instead she lay on her bed and curled herself up small and stared blankly at the wall. There's nothing to be done, she told herself. Keep fighting, make the best of it, and be grateful that you are not alone.

And she was. Grateful, that is.

She knew the paladins were not your average humans, that the lions had chosen them specifically because they were capable of handling the power of Voltron, but she found herself wondering if the universe would have ended up in such dire straits if humans had joined the galactic community earlier.

They weren't trained like Alteans were, and they tended to be rash and unsophisticated, but when their backs were to the wall they fought like demons, and their ability to Get Shit Done (oh dear, they were wearing off on on her here) seemed to expand exponentially when you got a group of them together, regardless of the fact that they never seemed to stop bickering. They were equal parts kind, brutal, and clever.

She loved them. She loved them with all the love she could no longer bestow on her own people. They were her people now, her family, and she'd die for them, had almost done so in fact, but they wouldn't let her.

There was nothing in the castle library about them, for obvious reasons, and she had the vague idea she'd write something herself when she had the time, in some impossible, unthinkable future when the war was over.

She doubted she could be very impartial, and after a while she gave up trying. Leave it to other scholars to unpick her bias.

Lance was the source of most of her data. The others could answer any specific questions accurately enough, and were happy to do so, but Lance only needed a bit of nudging and he'd just start pouring out information. His homesickness was as acute as her own, and when he finally ran out of breath he'd remember this, and wince and say, “So, what was Altea like?”

She'd shake her head. Altea was the past now, Earth was still in the future.

“I'd like to visit sometime,” she'd say. And he'd be off again, telling her all the places she needed to visit, the things he could show her, explanations and digressions tripping haphazardly off his tongue as he rambled, his expression enthusiastic and dreamy. Regardless of the wonders they saw on their travels across the universe, Lance's loyalty to his home planet was touching and unshakable.

She loved him, like she loved the others, but maybe a bit differently as well. She had to watch herself around him; his sense of humour was contagious.

They were growing up, these humans. Growing into themselves as soldiers, but as people too. They couldn't quite agree on how fast time was passing; the universe kept time via nanotiks and eons, and everything that fell between those extremes was left to sentient life to sort out among themselves. Nevertheless, they were losing that immaturity that had worried her when she'd first met them, growing broader in shoulder and calmer in attitude, and even Pidge got taller.

Lance didn't grow out of his awful flirting. Allura would probably be a bit disappointed if he did, she had to admit. It bothered Coran far more than it bothered her when he wiggled his eyebrows and smirked at her. It wasn't that Lance didn't mean it, exactly, but she knew if she took him aside and asked him seriously to stop, he would without argument.

She didn't flirt back, but she never told him to stop, either.

She wasn't special. He had a go with most aliens that matched his human preferences, but she kind of liked that too. To the universe she was Princess Allura, royalty to a dead people, untouchable and revered. To Lance she was, well, she wasn’t sure exactly, but she was at least someone he wasn’t afraid to tease. As much as she rolled her eyes at Lance's antics, they made her smile, made her feel like she was more than her responsibilities and past.

If he actually got himself an alien girlfriend, she thought she'd be a bit lonely.

She was a bit lonely anyway. Lance probably had no idea how fond she really was of him; sometimes she felt like she missed Earth herself, she'd heard so much about it. Such a strange, complicated planet; no wonder it had borne such a strange, complicated species.

She was making up her mind about something, and once she had done so, she would act; it was in her nature not to second-guess, to wait around. But oh, she was a bit nervous too. Facing a fleet of Galra ships was less fraught than putting a new slant on a friendship she prized.

Aside from that it was a bit more complicated with aliens. Especially aliens about which you had no information other than what you gleaned for yourself. She would never, ever use the castle's surveillance systems to educate herself, even if mere curiosity had become something more urgent, something that warmed her blood. Still, she had to wonder what they were like under their clothes, and she knew it was easy to be fooled by a superficial resemblance to an alien species.

Ultimately, it didn't matter. Alteans were matchless spies, diplomats and merchants precisely because they could change their form. She could make herself almost perfectly human once she knew what they looked like.

Really, that would be the easy bit. The hard bit came before that, but when they returned from their latest mission, by the skin of their teeth (another human phrase that made no sense) the way they often did, a little beat-up, but mostly still smiling, she knew she couldn't put it off any longer as she watched Lance fling himself down on a couch and sigh, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, his eyes tired. Somewhere along the way, he’d become hard to look away from.

Well, maybe it could wait a bit longer. Injuries came first. Then repairs, and analysing the results of the mission, and of course everyone needed to get some sleep, and they had to work out where they should go next-

“I'm _stalling,_ ” she told herself, horrified. “It's just Lance. No, that's not fair.” It hadn't been just Lance for a while now. Soon, she promised herself, and ordered her paladins to rest.

The last planet they'd visited had been rainy. It might have been a rain of mercury, but Allura guessed it would have been enough to remind Lance of home. He’d been enthused at first, as the liquid metal had sheeted down, leaving great gleaming pools on the ground and giving the lions a strange, bejewelled look, but the toxic nature of the planet had nearly thwarted them and when they’d returned Allura heard Hunk asking Lance what he’d thought of it, and Lance’s disappointed sigh in response.

She guessed he’d find his way to the control room, and that she’d find him looking at the tiny dot on their maps that represented his far-off home.

She wasn’t wrong.

 

~~

Lance thought by now he’d learned not to get his hopes up, but when they’d made planet-fall and he’d seen the boiling clouds it was only Pidge’s panicked warning about the nature of the atmosphere that had stopped him leaping out of his lion and taking off his helmet, and probably sticking his tongue out, and wouldn’t _that_ be a dumb way to go?

Sometimes he thought he was getting the hang of this space thing; everything that looked appetising was poisonous, plugging Galra tech into anything was a bad idea, alien girls were never, ever going to date you, and if you didn’t make the effort to remember what Earth was like, you started to forget it.

Sometimes he thought it would be easier to forget.

He heard footsteps, but he recognised everyone's gait by now, and he didn’t need to look up as he heard Allura enter the control room to.

“Hey Princess, is it dinner time already?”

“No, not yet.” He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she sat down next to him, curling her long legs up under herself. She was still dressed for battle, but as he watched she reached up and tugged her hair loose, shaking it out of its bun, letting it fall down her back.

Beautiful, he thought, like he did every time. He didn’t trip and stumble over himself the way he used to; he knew it had become a bit of a running joke among the others, how eager he’d been to believe his painfully obvious crush was reciprocated, but he was in on the joke himself now. He got it. As long as she kept laughing, he’d keep playing along.

She didn’t seem to have anything she was in a hurry to say and Lance stretched his legs out, picking a fraying patch on his jeans. He was growing out of them, and his hoodie as well; his wrists and ankles stuck out, and if he did the zip up it was tight across his chest and biceps. These clothes were old and fraying, the fabric thinned and softened with age, like all their original outfits, but they were all he’d had when he left Earth, and he still wore them often, the castle keeping them mended and clean.

He’d given up trying to work out how long it had been. A year? Two? Years only made sense if you lived on a planet. Maybe they should have been counting sleeps, like little kids waiting for Christmas.

“Lance?”

“Hm?” He had an excuse to look at her properly now, meet those dazzling opaline eyes. He thought she was probably going to try and comfort him, but he was okay, really.

She took a breath and opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Lance waited a few moments. “Are you alright?” he asked eventually.

“I’m not quite sure how to proceed,” she confessed.

He rubbed the back of his head, confused. “Well I can’t help you unless I know what you’re trying to do,” he pointed out. When she didn’t respond he kept on, giving her his usual polished leer; if there’s one thing he was good at it was filling up silence. “You can’t ignore my overwhelming attractiveness any more, and you’ve come to confess your feelings for me?”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it quite like that,” she said with a thoughtful look. “But yes, you’re going to the ball field.”

“In the ball park,” he corrected automatically. “Wait, _what_?” He gaped at her, his eyes wide, before he narrowed them. “Is this some sort of joke? Are the others watching us?” He looked around the room.

“I’d never joke about something like that! Lance, we’re alone.”

“O-oh.”

“Unless of course, you were just joking.” She frowned.

“No! No, no no no no, well, I mean, yes, sort of, but no. I, uh, am I ruining this?”

She smiled, looking at him from under her hair, and he felt a rush of relief. “Not yet, at least.”

“Good.” He felt like his heart was trying to escape his ribcage. What should he do now?

“This is all rather awkward,” she said. “I suppose I could say you've grown on me, Lance.” She frowned again, and her gaze slid to the side, “Oh, I'm afraid I'm not very good at this.”

“Neither am I,” Lance said. “At least, that's what I always figured until now.” He took a deep breath. “So, um, can I kiss you?”

“I rather hoped you would.”

She was smiling at him, the glow from the star map reflected in her bright eyes. Maybe this was all some amazing dream (it wouldn’t exactly be the first,) but it didn’t really make any difference either way as to what he was going to do. Like hell he was going to pinch himself first and risk waking up. He leaned in and closed his eyes.

He held his breath as his lips caught the corner of her mouth, corner of her smile. She was warm and soft, and smelled indescribable; floral, somehow, but like no flowers Lance was familiar with. He stayed like that for moments, not game to so much as breathe and then she tilted her head, caught his lips properly with her own. He had to breathe then, because he felt like the air had been punched out of him, and when he gasped past her lips she parted hers too, and a surge of courage had him kissing her more firmly. He wound an arm around her shoulders, curled his fingers in her gleaming white hair.

It had been so long since he'd kissed anyone. But you never did forget, not really.

He pulled away, just far enough that he could look at her face.

“Was that okay?” he asked.

“More than okay,” she said, and the warmth in her tone lit an answering fire in his chest, and he grinned.

“Yeah?” It was a strange and exhilarating thing to think of himself as Lance; more than okay at kissing space princesses. The artificial gravity in the castle was doing nothing to stop the feeling that he was going to float away at any moment.

Her smile grew a little sly and then she pounced on him, topping him onto his back and sprawling across his chest, her hands cupping his face as she looked down at him. He met her halfway when she leaned down to kiss him. He opened his mouth to her, barely feeling it when the back of his head clunked gently against the floor. He had his arms full of her, her hair soft and feathery as it fell around them, her body lean and warm; soft against his chest, hard and muscled under the thick, flame-retardant material of her suit.

She kissed him like she'd been waiting for it, had been thinking about it as much as he had, and he lost himself in kissing her back, determined not to disappoint her. The rest of the universe had ceased to exist, as far as he was concerned.

It was only when Coran announced over the intercom that the food had been served did she jerk back in surprise, her hair messed and her lips reddened.

“We should probably get back,” she said, pulling hair hair away from her face, and Lance savoured the lack of enthusiasm with which she spoke. He was definitely better than green space goo.

“I really don't feel like food right now,” Lance said.

They looked at each other and smiled, but before Lance could suggest they skip dinner entirely Allura sprung to her feet and offered Lance her hand. She hauled him upright without effort, and didn't let go for a few moments.

“This is amazing,” Lance said, looking at their clasped hands. “Really, really amazing. But kind of scary too if I’m honest.” He flicked his gaze up to meet hers. “What happens now?”

“Well, let's keep it to ourselves for a while,” she said. “I'm sure everyone will be happy for us-”

“When the laughter's died down,” Lance said, rolling his eyes. He kind of wanted everyone to know so they could be impressed, but at the same time he didn’t want to share it. Not yet. He squeezed her hand before releasing it. “I'll go on ahead, Princess. Do I look okay?” He ran his hand over his hair, smoothing it down at the back.

“I think you should call me Allura now,” she pointed out. “And you look fine to me.”

He winked at her, walking backwards for a few paces, and promptly walking into a wall when he turned around. Somehow, it didn't hurt. _Nothing_ hurt.

He was fucking invulnerable, he was sure of it.

Okay, so he wasn't fucking invulnerable, and the next time he sat on his bunk nursing a great many bruises, his ears still ringing with the sounds of battle, he wondered if they weren't making the best use of their time.

What were they doing? It had all sort of felt like a dream at first, unreal except for the moments they found themselves alone, precious minutes spent exchanging kisses because they didn't have time for anything else, regardless of how much Lance wanted actually fucking date he wasn't stupid and he knew a lot of things would have to wait. The universe was more important.

But waiting for _everything_? Lance’s mood swung between teeth-grinding frustration and boner-killing nerves, because while dating aliens was pleasant in abstract, the actual mechanics of going to bed with one were something he'd glossed over in his many fantasies. It hadn't mattered when it hadn't been real.

Allura wasn't a fantasy; she was real and important to him and he loved her, loved her even if this thing between them didn't work out, but he really, really hoped it would. She left him gasping, aching more often than not, but not quite game to ask if they could meet again, sometime in the sleep cycle, where they could take their time getting to know each other better.

Fuck, he hadn't managed to get that far with a human girl before he'd ended up half a universe away, which from some perspectives might be an advantage, he supposed. No expectations.

He missed her. He was sick of this bare, tiny room, of going to sleep imagining her.

“Hey, Allura?” he contacted her quietly, on the private channel. He didn't want to wake her if she was asleep, but she answered him soon enough.

“Lance, is everything all right?”

“Yeah, I just.” Deep breath. “Wanted to see you, like, right now. I mean, just, we don't have to do anything but I'm kind of,” he trailed off.

He heard her breathe for a few moments. “I'm lonely too,” she said. “I'd like to see you, and whatever you feel like doing.” She sounded amused rather than hesitant.

“Yeah. I'll see you then,” he said softly. “Oh, crap! I have to shower. I’ll be quick,” he promised.

He leaped to his feet, and his various injuries protested as he did so. This is happening, he thought, his heart fluttering as he peeled off his armour, ignoring various aches and twinges; he’d had a lot worse. It'll be fine, it'll be fine, he told himself. Just be yourself.

He stepped into the shower and stared down at his own dick, trying to work out what it would be like from the perspective of an alien girl. What if she thought it was ridiculous? It kind of was, he thought, but maybe to an alien it would be terrifying. Or incomprehensible. Well, that latter was okay, it wasn't like it would be difficult to demonstrate how it worked.

Please please please don't ask for a demonstration. Although, Lance considered as he lathered his hair, it would be a bit hot as well. Something like 'ooh Lance no species in the galaxy can compare to you, show me how that magnificent machine that is your body works.'

What were the odds of that? Not good, he told his incipient erection. There were still a great many other things to worry about. Mainly the unknown, because honestly, everything he'd seen of Allura so far had been gorgeous, and it wasn't really him he was worrying about.

What if she had spines? Or tentacles. Or, or laid eggs. _What if she wanted to lay eggs in him_? What if Alteans did some sort of mind thing and thought touching was gross? What if she read his thoughts and decided he was a pervert?

With these sorts of thoughts bouncing between his ears he got dry and dressed again with a strange sense of foreboding, and he dragged himself along the corridor to her room with a lot less enthusiasm than when he’d suggested the visit.

He took a deep breath and knocked on her door.

“Hi,” he said, when the door slid open, and he immediately felt guilty for all the horrible things he’d been imagining. This was Allura, the gorgeous space princess who was also somehow his girlfriend and was going to save the universe, now he was back to wondering if _he_ was going to be inadequate or repulsive.

“What's wrong?” she asked, taking one look at his expression.

“I'm really, really over-thinking this.” Please put me out of my misery.

“Oh Lance, it will be fine,” she said with inexplicable confidence. She leaned out and looked up and down the hallway before grabbing the front of his shirt. “Now get in here.” She hauled him in and as soon as the door was shut pushed him up against it.

They knew this bit well, and God, he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of kissing her, being kissed, and just knowledge that he was in her bedroom was enough to make him hard in his jeans.

She was dressed for bed in a long, rather shapeless gown that didn’t flatter her particularly, but he could feel the body underneath, pressed against his. Fuck it, you only live once. He levered himself away from the door so he could shrug off his hoodie; he’d thrown in on through sheer force of habit.

Allura stepped back to give him space, and he paused, wondering if he should do something specific with his clothes.

“It’s all right,” Allura said encouragingly. “I’ve been very curious.”

Oh. Oh, alright then.

“Then prepare to be amazed! I hope. Or, you know, okay with it.” He tugged his shirt off over his head and left it on the floor on top of his hoodie before kicking off his shoes. Allura clasped her hands in front of her, and watched eagerly in a manner that was frankly a little off-putting.

“Looking good so far!” she said when he hesitated, his hands on his belt.

“Yeah.” Just get it over with. He unzipped and pushed the rest of his clothing down, stepping out of his jeans and boxers with a bravado that he did not really feel.

“What do you think?” he asked, addressing his question to the far corners of Allura’s room, not game to look at her directly. He jumped when he felt her palms on his chest; she’d closed the gap again. She was almost as tall as he was and she smiled into his eyes for a few moments before kissing him.

Lance sagged with relief that she hadn’t laughed or screamed in fright, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close, warm against the slight coolness of the room. She slid her hands down his chest and stomach, and he inhaled sharply through his nose as he felt one of them encircle his thickening cock.

She felt it carefully, gently, from root to tip and back down again, still kissing him as his knees trembled. He supposed it didn’t matter if they buckled; he knew she could hold him up without effort. Her other hand rested on his hip, holding him steady as she reached down to fondle his balls. Why had he ever imagined she’d be shy?

“Mph, God.” He pulled his mouth away from hers with some effort. “I want to touch you too,” he said, his voice rough and hoarse, sounding like someone else entirely.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” she said.

“Oh, you’re doing really good so far.” He’d come in her hand sooner or later if she didn’t stop, and he was slightly relieved when she released him.

She started pulling her nightgown off over her head and he reached out to help her, as the cloth rose to reveal long, perfect legs, her skin darker than his own, muscular calves and thighs and finally off! Over her head, and she shook her hair out, smiling as she tossed the garment aside.

She hadn't been wearing anything underneath.

Lance stared at her breasts, soft and full and inviting, her nipples hardening in the air, and his mouth watered. He reached for her and she stepped up to him, and the wet end of her cock nudged his stomach.

Hang on. What. He snapped his head down to stare.

She was smiling at him, pleased and proud and unashamed of the phallus that curved up from her crotch, as hard and eager as his own. Actually it was pretty much exactly like his, he thought as he stared at it, aroused and blind-sided by the sight of her naked.

Of all the things he’d been braced for, this hadn’t occurred to him. Well. Now he wouldn’t have any trouble working out what to do with it, he supposed. Yeah, I’ve got this, he thought. All those years perfecting his wanking technique hadn’t been wasted after all.

“You’re gorgeous,” he breathed, and crammed himself up against her, walked them both back to the bed while she pressed her lips to his neck, nipped at his ear, their cocks butting blindly against each other. They tumbled down onto the bed and worked their way up to the end in a tangle of tanned limbs and toothy, desperate kisses, leaving the blankets churned up in their wake, a pillow toppling off the side.

He got his hands on her arse, and squeezed, and she rolled her hips up, letting out a little gasp as she thrust against his stomach. He pressed his face to her chest, teased her nipples with his tongue and teeth and she thanked him with the most delightful moans.

He was going to come against her leg, on her sheets if he wasn’t careful. He’d been waiting for this too long, dreaming of it since the first day she fell into his arms and then nearly dislocated one.

“You’re a dream come true,” he murmured, and both felt and heard her laugh in response.

“You’re so romantic,” she said.

He hadn’t actually been trying to be, just saying whatever floated into his head, but he’d take it.

Summoning his courage, he reached down and gently grasped her cock. He was rewarded by her head lolling back and her limbs twitching in a kind of full-body shudder as he stroked up to the tip. She gasped and her hands flexed against his back, her nails digging into his skin.

“Damn,” he said quietly, a bit awestruck. Guess it didn’t work quite the same way his did. He did it again, and she trembled beneath him for a while before retaliating, flinging a leg over his hip and returning the favour, copying his rhythm.

“Really, not gonna last long,” he panted through gritted teeth, his head bowed. It was too much listening to her pant, watching her skin gleam where her own slick had spread across her stomach, feeling her squeeze and stroke his cock.

“It’s alright. It's good. Oh Lance,” she breathed and hearing his name in her mouth like that was too much for him. Beyond too much.

He dropped his open mouth down on hers, licked into it, felt her leg tighten over his hip as he spasmed, coming over her hand and stomach. He was cursing himself for not lasting longer, holding out better, when she arched up against him, her hips rising off the bed and his name pushed out past his own lips as he kissed her through it.

He’d shut his eyes at some point and he opened them again in time to watch her come back to herself. I did that, he thought, I am fucking incredible.

He’d made a mess. She hadn’t, but she looked sated well enough, her smile fond and her breathing starting to slow.

“I wasn’t quite expecting that,” she said, lifting her hand to stare at his spunk glistening on it.

“Um, sorry. Let me find something to clean up.” He was going to go and get his shirt when she gently pulled him back down.

“Later,” she said. “We can have a bath.”

“Anything you want,” he said, gratefully flopping down in the pillows beside her. “Wait, you have a _bath_? We don’t have those in our quarters.”

“I am the princess,” she pointed out. “Of course I get a bath. And my consort can share it too,” she added, a bit uncertainly. “If he wants to. Some of the time.”

“Consort, huh?” He tested the word, and smiled. “Sounds good to me.” He snuggled closer to nuzzle the side of her face and she obligingly turned her head to kiss him, slow and sleepy, all tongue and no teeth.

“Keep that up I won’t want to leave,” he murmured against her lips.

“If you want to stay just say so,” she said. “The others are going to find out anyway.”

He'd sort of forgotten the others existed.

“Yeah,” he said happily. “I guess I should let the universe know I'm off the market. Although I warn you, millions of alien women are going to be really disappointed.”

Allura laughed, a soft little chuckle that wrinkled her nose adorably, and Lance wanted to hear that laugh forever. It was something too scary to say out loud, too much like jinxing it; they had such a long way to go, but he'd hold that thought close no matter what awaited them.

 


End file.
